


i walked with you (once upon a dream)

by hawksonfire



Series: Bucky Barnes Bingo 2019 [17]
Category: Marvel
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - Merpeople, BAMF Clint, Fluff, M/M, Merman!Bucky, Pirate!Thor, merman!Steve, merman!Tony, pirate dog!Lucky, pirate!Bruce, pirate!Clint, pirate!Natasha, pirate!pietro, pirate!wanda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-24
Updated: 2019-09-28
Packaged: 2020-10-27 16:56:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20763770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hawksonfire/pseuds/hawksonfire
Summary: Five times Clint saved Bucky, plus one time Bucky saved Clint.





	1. Clint saves Bucky from some pirates (and not the fun kind)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [askmeaboutmyoctopustheory](https://archiveofourown.org/users/askmeaboutmyoctopustheory/gifts).

> I got this idea after a flurry of brainstorming on some Discord servers, and I couldn't wait to get started on it!! Ignore the fact that it took me a month to actually write anything down. 
> 
> I hope you like your gift, lovely!! Happy (early) birthday!!
> 
> (also written for Bucky Barnes Bingo Square N3 - Free Space)  
(also also written for Winterhawk Bingo Square N5 - Supernatural AU)

~~(1)~~

“You ever seen a mer before, boy?” The Captain stands in front of Clint, arms crossed. He scoffs when Clint shakes his head. “You wanna?”

“I thought they weren’t real,” Clint says, putting his sponge down and following The Captain belowdecks. 

The Captain scoffs again. “They’re as real as you or me, boy. Worth a good amount of coin on the market, too. Well, their parts are, anyway.” He leads Clint past the crew’s quarters, past the little corner Clint’s claimed for himself, deep into the bowels of the ship. Pulling a keyring out of his pants, he unlocks the door and pushes it open. “In there,” he says, jerking his head towards a tank in the corner. 

“Aren’t you coming in?”

The Captain snorts. “Why? I’ve seen the beast already, well enough to know what I’m selling. Go on. Watch your fingers. This one’s a nasty bugger. Dumb as a clam, but nasty.” He shoves Clint inside, shutting the door behind him. “Bang on the door when you want out.”

Clint takes two steps forward, squinting to try and see through the murky darkness to the tank. He doesn’t notice how close to the tank he’s drifted until his foot bumps something that slides away with a clatter, drawing his attention. When he looks back at the tank, there’s a face staring back at him. Clint swallows a yelp and scrambles backwards, tripping over his feet and falling onto his ass. 

An odd sort of bubbling, hissing noise reaches his (admittedly shit) ears, and he looks up, panting, to see the mer holding its hand over its mouth, eyes crinkled at the corner and shoulders shaking. “It’s not nice to laugh at other people’s pain, y’know,” Clint says, standing and rubbing sheepishly at his bruised behind. 

The mer flicks its tail and pokes its head above the waterline. “You’re the one keeping me in a cage,” it spits viciously. “I think that lets me laugh at whatever pain I want.” 

“Technically, it’s The Captain that’s keeping you in a cage,” Clint points out, drifting closer again. “‘Sides, he said you were dumb as a clam.”

The mer snorts. “Clams can’t talk,” it points out.

“Wouldn’t be the first time The Captain got something wrong,” Clint replies easily, because he’s never liked The Captain. He’s only staying because Barney likes it here. “Do you... need anything?”

The mer scoffs. “Yeah, I need out of this damn cage and back into the water.” Clint flinches at its tone, taking a step back unconsciously. The mer watches him curiously, tilting its head. “But I suppose I could do with some fresh fish, if you’re offering.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Clint promises, shuffling towards the door. “M’name’s Clint, by the way.” The mer doesn’t respond, just sinks back down into the water, watching Clint walk away with big blue eyes. Clint bangs on the door, and in the few seconds it takes before The Captain opens it, he thinks maybe they’ve left him here to rot. 

He also thinks that might not be so bad, if he’s got company, but then The Captain opens the door and yanks him out. “You get your fill, boy?”

“Dumb as a clam, like you said,” Clint says, even though it hurts him to be so callous towards a creature who’s clearly very intelligent, not to mention pretty. 

“You ain’t scared of it?” The Captain asks, raising one bushy eyebrow. 

Clint shakes his head. “It’s too dumb to hurt me, unless I get too close. ‘Sides, a jab with my knife’ll take care of that quick enough.”

The Captain lets out a laugh, clapping Clint on the shoulder. “You’ll do just fine out here, boy. Might even move up in the ranks one day. Til then, I’m putting you on mer-duty. Feed it, make sure it doesn’t die before we get to port, and you get extra rations for a week.”

Clint nods and lets The Captain lead him away, sending one final glance back at the locked steel door. Might be nice to talk to someone who doesn’t treat him like an idiot, even if that someone is a mer. And probably hates him. And is also going to probably be dead soon. 

~~

It takes them three weeks to get to port, and in that time Clint learns that the mer is a he, and his name is James. His favourite fish is starfish, but since Clint can’t get any of those until they get to warmer waters, he makes do with the carp and seaweed that Clint brings him. James has a best friend back home named Grant, who he’s known since he was just a guppy - which is apparently a mer’s version of a baby - and his parents are probably worried sick about him.

Four nights before they’re due to arrive in port, Clint stops being able to ignore his growing feelings of guilt regarding keeping James in a cage. It’s clearly affecting him - his hair has gone lank, he’s got bruises under his eyes, and his tail is limp. He barely even moves anymore - not even for food. Clint even brought him a starfish once, and James had just looked at him before rolling over and facing the wall, his back to Clint. 

“Why are you still here?” James asks one night, staring at Clint furiously. “You’re selling me off for parts, and you’re still here, talking to me and bringing me starfish, like I’m supposed to what, _ like _ you? Forgive you? I will _ never _ forgive you for this, Clint.” His voice goes quiet near the end, and the sheer amount of hurt in his tone stabs Clint right in the heart, and right there, Clint makes a choice. 

“I gotta go,” he stammers, dropping the rest of James’ food into the tank and running out of the room. He barely remembers to lock the door behind him, and all the way up to the main deck, his mind is racing. He narrowly manages to stop himself just before he collides with The Captain, who turns around and glares at him.

“That mer best be in tip-top condition when we reach port, boy,” he warns, “Or whatever coin I lose on it will be taken out of your rations.” Clint nods his agreement and The Captain lets him go, shoving him away. Clint resumes his race towards the main deck, scurrying up the mainmast and tucking himself into the fold of the sail.

Hidden from all eyes aboard the ship, Clint starts to plan.

~~

The night before they're due in port, when everyone else is asleep, Clint sneaks into James’ cell, carrying his lockpicks in one hand and a small waterproof sack filled with seaweed in the other. “What are _ you _ doing here?” James hisses, poking his head out of the water and glaring at Clint. 

“Getting you out of here and back into the ocean,” Clint says, eyeing the latches on the tank. He can smash them, but that carries the risk of waking someone up. 

“What are you talking about?” James asks, his voice cautiously hopeful. 

Clint gets to work on the main latch, the one keeping the lid on James’ tank. “I mean, The Captain and his whole crew are awful people, and you don’t belong here with them. You certainly don’t belong on land, being sold for parts. So I’m getting you out of here. Tonight.”

James gapes at him silently. Clint’s finished the first latch and started on the second by the time he speaks again. “How are you gonna get me off the ship?”

“I’ll carry you,” Clint grunts, lifting the lid off of the tank and setting it down gently. 

“But you’re so small!” James says, eyes wide in shock. 

Clint snorts. “I’m fifteen years old,” he says, reaching into the tank. “I can carry you up some stairs and toss you over a rail.”

James pushes himself against the back wall of the tank. “How do I know you’re not planning to kill me early?” He asks, voice wobbly.

“You don’t,” Clint says. “But you know me, James. Can you honestly tell me you think I’m capable of something like that?” James looks him over carefully. Clint stays still patiently, not mentioning their time limit. Barney’s due for a watch shift at dawn, and he won’t hesitate to turn Clint in.

“Okay,” James says. Clint nearly sags in relief. “How do we do this?” It takes some maneuvering but eventually, they get James settled in Clint’s arms. 

Clint grunts when he lifts James out of the tank. “You’re heavier than you look.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

Clint shakes his head, moving towards the door. It takes a couple steps to get used to James’ weight in his arms, but he manages. “Not at all. Quiet now, alright? I gotta get us up the stairs.” James falls silent and Clint slides open the door, wincing when it squeaks slightly. It seems like it takes hours for them to make it to the stairs, every footstep and breath feeling like an explosion. They have a tense moment when James grabs a lantern hook to stop them from turning a corner, but moments later, the first mate walks by, stumbling into walls and holding a bottle of rum in his hand. 

James makes a face as the stench of drunken unwashed sailor hits them, and Clint has to stop himself from laughing. Finally, they make it up to the main deck. The sky is lightening, but the sun isn’t yet poking up over the horizon. They still have a few minutes. Clint brings James over to the side of the ship, letting him sit on the rail, facing the ocean. 

“Thank you, Clint,” James says, turning to face him. 

Clint flushes, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. “Was nothing,” he says awkwardly. 

“It wasn’t nothing!” James insists. “You saved my life. I am in your debt.”

“I don’t want anything from you,” Clint shakes his head, holding up a hand to stop James’ protest. “It’s bad enough I left you in that cage as long as I did, this was the literal least I could do.” Seeing the stubborn look on James’ face, he sighs. “If you really think you owe me a debt, the only thing I want from you is for you to be more careful. Don’t get so close to shore again, alright? I’m not always gonna be there to rescue you.”

James cups Clint’s face in one hand, running a thumb over his cheekbone gently. “Somehow I doubt that, Clint.” They stare into each other’s eyes for a few seconds before Clint shakes his head and steps back, dislodging James’ hand. 

“You should go,” he says, “The crew will be waking up soon. Get as far away from here as possible. Oh!” He pulls this little bag of seaweed off his belt and hands it over. “I made this for you. I know you can get your own food and stuff once you’re back in the water, but I figured I’d do it anyway.”

“Thank you,” James says. He twists around and gets ready to push himself off the rail, then hesitates. “Clint?” He says, glancing back. 

“Yeah, James?”

“My friends call me Bucky,” he says with a small smile, and then he’s gone, leaving only a splash and memories behind him. Clint grins out at the ocean, watching the waves sway hypnotically, before shaking his head and turning around. He’s got a mess to clean up, someone to blame it on, and an innocent look to perfect.


	2. Clint saves Bucky from some ropes (and not the fun kind)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and so it continues!! Enjoy Clint saving Bucky some more!
> 
> (also written for Winterhawk Bingo Square B2 - Bruce Banner)

**~~(2)~~**

“Dammit Clint, can’t you stay out of trouble for one seaforsaken night?” Natasha sounds annoyed, but Clint can tell she isn’t really.

“Not when a dog is involved,” he says, cradling the shaky lump of blond fur in his arms carefully. “Think Bruce can help him?”

“How do you know it’s a him?” Tasha asks, raising an eyebrow. 

“Gut feeling,” says Clint distractedly. “So? Bruce?”

“Is not that kind of doctor,” she says patiently. “Are you sure that thing’s even going to survive the night?”

“He’s not allowed to die,” Clint says fiercely. “He can’t be our mascot if he’s dead.”

“No, Clint,” Tasha says, shaking her head. “That dog is not coming on board our ship.”

“Aw, Tasha,” Clint whines, “The _ Avenger _ needs a mascot, c’mon!” He walks up the gangplank, the thump of his footsteps making the dog whine. “It’s okay, boy,” Clint murmurs, “Bruce’ll fix you right up.”

“I’m doing what now?” Bruce ambles up behind Clint, rubbing his face. “Do you two have any idea what time it is? I was hoping to get - why does Clint have a dog?” 

“Do you really need an answer to that?” Natasha asks, smirking. 

Bruce shakes his head. “Guess not,” he sighs, putting on his glasses. “Bring it to my quarters, I’ll see what I can do.” Cling grins at him and brings the dog to Bruce’s room, setting it down on the table and scratching behind its ears. 

“You’re gonna be just fine, boy,” he says. The dog’s tail thumps weakly against the table, making him grin. 

“You’re one lucky pup, you know that?” Natasha remarks from where she’s leaning against the wall. 

Clint perks up and grins at her. “That’s it! His name is Lucky, and he’s the best dog ever.” Lucky lets out a weak little bark at the sound of his name and Clint laughs. 

“See? It’s practically fate.”

“Don’t let him slobber all over my knives,” Tasha says as she leaves, which Clint knows is the best he’s going to get from her. 

“It’s okay, Lucky,” he says softly, staring into the dog’s one good eye, “You’ll be safe here. And Tasha will grow to love you, I promise.” Lucky licks him and Clint laughs. “I’m real glad I found you, boy.”

~~

“Lucky, drop it!” Tasha’s voice rings out, reaching Clint all the way up in what his crew has affectionately nicknamed ‘the hawk’s nest’. He looks down to see Lucky racing away from Tasha, one of her knives in his mouth, tail wagging furiously. He laughs at the sight, ducking down when Natasha looks up, probably to glare at him. “Clint, get your dog under control!” She shouts, and Clint opens his mouth to respond when a flurry of motion catches his attention. 

“Thor! Starboard! Now!” He shouts, swinging his way out of the hawk's nest and climbing down the rigging.

“What’s happening?” Bruce asks, popping his head up from belowdecks as the ship starts to turn. 

“Commotion, one click starboard,” Clint says shortly. He strides over to the rail and leans out, eyes scanning the ocean. 

“Someone drowning?” Tasha asks, coming to stand beside him. Clint grunts. He thought he saw... someone familiar. The ship gains speed, closing the distance quickly. As they get closer, Thor slows them down. 

Clint’s eyes widen when he sees what’s happening, and he leaps into action. “Bruce, get your medkit, we’re gonna need it! Thor, keep us steady! Tash, Pietro, Kate, I’m going to need your help lifting!” He grabs a rope and strips off all his weapons save one, and his shirt, then leaps over the side, hitting the water with a splash. It takes him a few seconds to get his bearings but as soon as he can see, he starts swimming towards the still struggling figure, cutting through the water smoothly. 

“Get away from me, human!” The person hisses, tail wiggling furiously. 

“Is that any way to talk to the guy that saved your life?” Clint jokes, treading water. 

Bucky freezes, then stares at him in shock. “Clint?”

“In the flesh,” Clint says, giving a little bow - and then coughing when he gets water up his nose. When he resurfaces, Bucky’s holding back a grin. “It’s not nice to laugh at other people’s pain, y’know,” Clint says, grinning. 

“You’re the one not helping me out of this net, I think that lets me laugh at whatever pain I want,” Bucky responds, eyes twinkling. Clint laughs at him brightly, swimming forward. He pulls the knife out of its holster and starts sawing at the ropes tangling Bucky up. 

“How’d you even get stuck in this thing?” Clint asks, tongue poking out of the side of his mouth as he concentrates. Bucky doesn’t answer right away, and when Clint looks up, his face is red. “Bucky?”

“Saw a cool fish,” Bucky mutters, and Clint laughs again. 

“Did you at least catch it?” He asks, sawing through the last of the ropes surrounding Bucky. Bucky flushes harder and shakes his head. The ropes snap and drift away, freeing Bucky. He grins and stretches his tail, then winces in pain. “You alright?”

Bucky shakes his head, grimacing. “I think part of the net crushed my tailfin,” he says mournfully. Clint takes a deep breath and ducks his head underwater, blinking them until his vision clears. Bucky’s right tailfin does look crumpled, so Clint brings himself back above water.

“Yeah, looks like,” he says, “You need somewhere to stay while it heals?” Bucky hesitates. Clint holds out his hands. “I don’t want you out there with a crushed tailfin, Bucky. Please? I swear nothing will happen to you.”

Bucky bites at his bottom lip, looking conflicted. “You’ll have to drop anchor here,” he warns. “I don’t trust other humans.”

Clint nods. “No problem. Can we get on my ship now? I dunno about you, but I’m getting tired of treading water.” He’s not, really, he could go for a while longer - but Bucky looks exhausted, like he’s having trouble keeping his head above water.

“Yeah,” Bucky says finally, “Yeah, okay.” They make their way back to the _ Avenger _ slowly, Clint slowing himself down so Bucky can keep up with his injury.

“Tash, heave!” Clint shouts after tying the rope around his waist and lifting Bucky into his arms. 

“I’m not a guppy anymore, Clint,” Bucky grumbles, wrapping his arms around Clint’s neck as they’re lifted out of the water. 

“And I’m not fifteen anymore,” Clint counters. Pietro and Kate grab his arms and lift the two of them over the rail, setting them down on the deck gently.

“Who’s this?” Wanda asks curiously.

“What _ is _ he?” Pietro asks, already zipping around them and poking at Bucky’s tail. 

“This is Bucky,” Clint says, putting Bucky down and untying the rope from around his waist, “He’s a friend from a long time ago.”

“How the hell did you meet a mermaid?” Kate asks incredulously, staring wide-eyed.

“I got lucky,” Clint winks. Bruce comes walking over with his medkit in hand, stopping dead when he sees that his newest patient has a tail. 

“Clint, I am unequipped to deal with this,” he says flatly. 

“Nonsense, doc, just treat it like you would a broken limb,” Clint says cheerfully. Crouching down in front of Bucky, he says, “This is Bruce. He’s our doctor. You mind if he takes a look at you?”

“No touching,” Bucky says. He clearly doesn’t trust any of them except for Clint.

“I understand you may not want to be touched by us,” Bruce says gently, “But this looks pretty bad and you could lose the use of it if I don’t do a proper examination.”

“Clint stays,” Bucky says stiffly. “No unnecessary questions.”

“Deal,” Clint says easily. He looks around at his crew and raises an eyebrow. They scatter, Kate and Wanda withdrawing to a safe distance to watch, while Pietro races over to Thor, already asking for stories of merfolk. Tasha doesn’t move for a few seconds, but when Clint looks at her and nods, she turns and walks away stiffly, sitting down and pulling out a knife to clean.

“Is this the fin you use for primary motion?” Bruce asks politely.

“No, it’s primarily for steering,” Bucky says curtly, letting out a hiss of pain when Bruce straightens out his fin.

Bruce hums in response and continues looking over Bucky’s fin, and Clint takes it upon himself to distract Bucky. “So what have you been up to these last few years? You made it home okay last time?”

“Within a day,” Bucky assures him. “My family were very happy to see me safe, though they did not believe me when I told them of the kind human boy who helped me escape. To them, all humans are bad.”

“And to you?” Clint asks gently. 

Bucky looks at him seriously. “I have met only one human who I would care to meet again.”

Clint nods. “Most of the good ones live on land,” he says, ignoring the way Bucky’s words made his heart flutter. “I’ve got the best crew around.”

“What have you done since you saved me?” Bucky asks. 

Clint nods over to where Pietro and Wanda are sitting. “Helping others. I left the people I was with when we met not long after you escaped, although it wasn’t exactly by choice. They left me for dead, so I figured it was time to go. I worked odd jobs until I had scraped together enough coin to buy my own ship, but then I needed a crew. Pietro stole my lunch one day, and when I followed him back to his sister, I offered them both a home. Natasha came later, when I found her shackled in the brig of another ship. Thor and Bruce came as a package, but they’re family. Kate just showed up one day and never left.”

Bucky pats his hand. “You are a good man, Clint.”

“Nah,” Clint says, shaking his head. “I just helped ‘em out a little.” 

Before Bucky can respond, Bruce does something to his tailfin that has him flinching away and snarling. “I’ve straightened it out,” Bruce says, unaffected by Bucky’s sharp teeth and growling. “I also put a splint on it, so as long as you’re good to stay out of the water for a couple days, it should heal enough that you can be on your way.”

“My kind heals quickly,” Bucky says stiffly. “You have my gratitude, Bruce.”

“Happy to help,” Bruce says with a warm smile. He packs up his medkit and walks away, brushing a hand over Thor’s side as he passes his lover. 

“That is... normal, in your land?” Bucky asks cautiously, watching the two men lean into one another. 

Clint shakes his head. “No. That’s part of why they’re here. Ain’t any laws on the sea, ‘cept the ones you make yourself.” Bucky hums thoughtfully, shifting on the deck. “I have somewhere you can stay that will be more comfortable, if you’d like,” Clint offers. “It’s not much, but it’s decent.”

“As long as there’s water,” Bucky says, already reaching for Clint, “I cannot stay completely dry for too long, otherwise I will dry out.”

Clint scoops him into his arms and starts walking towards the stairs that will bring them belowdecks. “No problem, I’ll get Pietro to lug some buckets down - we’ll stick you in the tub! It’ll be great.” Pietro salutes him, then zips off to fill a bucket or twelve.

“What is... a _ tub _?” Bucky asks, his nose scrunching up adorably. 

Clint barks a laugh, twisting his body to make sure Bucky doesn’t hit the wall as they walk down the stairs. “Yeah, I guess you wouldn’t have that in the ocean. It’s like a big bowl, kind of, that humans fill with water and use to clean themselves.”

“You can’t just use the ocean water?”

Clint shakes his head, depositing Bucky into the tub. “Saltwater is actually not so great for cleaning, just makes us smell like brine - which isn’t bad, just a little odd. We use freshwater to clean ourselves.”

“Humans are weird,” Bucky says, leaning back in the tub. “I did not think I would fit in this tub.”

“Yeah, well, this thing can fit both me _ and _ Thor at the same time, and you’re only a little taller than him if you stand up,” Clint chuckles, watching Bucky run his hands over the smooth surface of the tub. 

The calm silence is interrupted when Pietro careens into the room, carrying two buckets full of water in his hands. “Do you peel if you dry out? How long does it take for you to dry out? If you dry out, will you die? Is freshwater okay, or does it have to be salt water? Can you -”

“Pietro, breathe!” Interrupts Wanda, shaking her head at him fondly. She enters the room after him, followed by Natasha, both of them carrying a bucket. They empty it into the tub, then head out to get some more water. The next couple of hours are spent in the small room, Bucky being quizzed by Pietro incessantly and Bucky patiently answering all of his questions. 

When Clint sees Bucky getting tired, he ushers Pietro out of the room, closing the door behind him. “Sorry about him,” he sighs, “He means well, but he moves faster than the rest of us.”

“I don’t mind,” Bucky says, smiling softly. “Reminds me of my sister.”

“Tell me about them,” Clint says, settling in for the long haul. So Bucky does. He talks for nearly the whole night, and it’s only when Clint wakes up in the morning, slumped over against the wall, that he realizes two things. 

One, falling asleep on the floor is a terrible idea and he should never do it again. 

Two, he’s gone and fallen in love with Bucky. Irrevocably, inconceivably in love with Bucky.

Fuck.

~~

Three days later, Bucky’s tailfin is all healed and Clint’s grinning at Bucky’s noises of pure joy as he cuts through the waves like nothing. “All better then?” He asks, laughing, as Bucky swims up to the _ Avenger_.

“Like nothing ever happened,” Bucky says, grinning up at him.

“I’m glad,” Clint says, smiling down at the mer softly. “Guess it’s time for you to head out, hm?”

Bucky’s face falls slightly. “Yes. I must be getting back.”

“Take care of yourself, Bucky,” Clint says, smiling sadly. “Try not to get caught in any more nets, yeah?”

“One time,” Bucky grumbles. He pushes himself up out of the water a little and Clint leans over, meeting him halfway. “Be kind to yourself, Clint Barton,” he says quietly, “I hope we meet again.”

“Yeah,” Clint breathes, “Me too.” Bucky sinks back down into the water, vanishing like he was never there in the first place. 

“You alright?” Wanda asks, placing a gentle hand on Clint’s shoulder.

“Fine,” Clint lies, “I’ll miss him, is all.” He lets himself look out over the ocean one last time before scrubbing his face and turning to face his crew. “Alright. Let’s get us back to shore, our rations are running low.” He hands out orders and climbs up the mast, letting his shoulders slump once he reaches the hawk’s nest.

It was nice to see Bucky again, he thinks, but Clint’s not holding out hope for it to happen again. It was pure chance that he and his crew were in the right place at the right time to save Bucky, the chances of it happening again are ridiculously low. 

Ah, well. A guy can dream.


	3. Clint saves Bucky from his best friend (it's a little fun)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A certain blond-haired angry mer makes an appearance, there is gratuitous violence done to a bad guy, and there are, perhaps... _ feelings?? _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: THERE IS VIOLENCE IN THIS CHAPTER!! For those of you who would prefer not to read it, but want to know what happens, stop reading when Rumlow asks "You and what army?" And start up again when Clint winks at Kate. An explanation of the violence will be in the end notes.
> 
> without further ado, enjoy!!
> 
> (also written for Winterhawk Bingo Square O1 - BAMF Clint)

**~~(3)~~**

“Well, well. If it isn’t the Dread Pirate Hawkeye,” Rumlow sneers, glaring down at Clint. Clint spits a glob of blood out of his mouth onto the deck at Rumlow’s feet, grinning a bloody grin at the other man. 

“That’s me,” he says cheerfully, “How can I help you fine gentlemen today?”

“You can start by telling us your secret,” Rumlow says, crouching down next to Wanda and wrapping a strand of her hair around his finger.

“I’m not entirely sure what you’re referring to,” Clint says pleasantly, giving a barely noticeable shake of his head when Pietro moves to protect his sister. 

“Rumour is,” Rumlow sneers, letting go of Wanda and standing up, “That you know where to find the merfolk.”

Clint snorts. “I dunno who’s been filling your head with that crap, Rumlow, but the merfolk are a myth. They don’t exist, and anyone who says they’ve seen one is lying.”

“Then explain this!” Rumlow says triumphantly, and he gestures over at his ship, to where his men are holding a figure up by its hair. “Nothing to say?” Rumlow asks smugly.

Clint rolls his eyes. “Nothing to say because I can’t fucking see it, you clownfish. I’m not a goddamn bird, my eyesight ain’t that good.” Rumlow punches him. Right in the nose. There’s a sickening crack as Clint’s head snaps to the side and his nose breaks, a spray of blood hitting the deck. 

“Bring it closer!” Rumlow shouts, and his men do their best to get the mer over to Clint’s ship without falling overboard - they don’t manage very well, as the mer knocks one of them off the gangplank into the ocean, grinning ferally. 

“I’m going to rip your guts out with my teeth!” The mer cries, its voice getting louder as it gets closer. Rumlow’s first mate, Rollins, throws it on the deck in front of Clint, sneering. It’s hands are tied behind its back and Rumlow takes a second to shove a gag into its mouth, muffling the furious shouts.

“You were saying?” Rumlow says, planting his boot right into the mer’s stomach. He - Clint’s pretty sure the mer’s a he, it has the same body type Bucky does - folds in half with a grunt and spits up blood. Clearly, this isn’t the first time he’s been beaten.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Clint drawls, looking the mer over. “Congrats, Rumlow, you find yourself the idiot who pulled a mer out of the water.”

Rumlow kicks him in the stomach this time. Yay, variety. “The fuck does that mean, Barton?”

Clint spits out more blood. “It means, genius, that if you don’t get it fully submerged in saltwater within the next hour, it’ll dry out, die, and be worth nothing. We’ve got a setup belowdecks that should work.” Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Tasha slide out of her bonds and palm a knife. 

“Not a chance, Barton,” Rumlow scoffs, “If you think I’m leaving this thing with you, you’ve got another thing coming. I will take your ship, though.”

Clint bares his teeth in a bloody snarl, pulling his arms free of the ropes Rumlow put him in and standing slowly. Thor and Bruce do the same, pulling themselves to their full, intimidating as hell height. Wanda and Pietro disappear, like Clint taught them - no matter what they think, they’re just kids and have no business getting caught up in this sort of fight. Kate’s nowhere to be seen either, and Clint hopes desperately that she’s gone to protect the twins. “Not a chance in Davy Jones’ locker are you getting my ship, Rumlow.”

Rumlow laughs at him and draws his sword. “What are you gonna do, stop me? You and what army?”

Clint grins and spreads his arms wide. “I don’t need an army, Rumlow. I’ve got something better than that.” The clang of a sword draws Rumlow’s attention and when he sees Natasha slitting Rollins’ throat with a feral grin on her face, and the rest of his men either on their knees or dead, his face goes white. “I’ve got a _ family_,” Clint snarls, and he flips a knife into his hand and stabs it straight through Rumlow’s eye. 

The man sinks to his knees with a gurgle, dead before his head hits the ground. “Aw, did you mean it, old man?” Kate asks, bouncing up to him out of nowhere. 

Clint winks at her. “Nah.” He pulls the knife out of Rumlow’s eye socket, wipes it on the dead man’s shirt, and sticks it back into the holster. Eyeing Rumlow’s men, none of whom will meet his gaze, he says, “Loot their ship, dump the corpses, and stick everyone who’s still alive in their brig. See how long they last.” Thor, Tasha and Kate do as he says, heading over to what used to be Rumlow’s ship.

“What about him?” Bruce asks quietly, motioning towards the mer. 

Clint crouches in front of the mer, holding his hands out in front of him. “Do you understand me?” The mer nods slowly, glaring at him. “If I take off your gag, are you going to bite me?” The mer considers this for a moment, then shrugs. Despite himself, Clint laughs. “Fair enough. I’m going to take it out now, alright? After that, I’ll untie your hands.”

He reaches out slowly, then yanks the gag from the mer’s mouth, narrowly avoiding getting his fingers bitten off. “Don’t come near me, you blobfish scum!”

Clint snorts. “That’s a new one.” The mer snarls at him. “Look, do you want your hands untied or not?”

“Fine,” the mer agrees, albeit grudgingly. Clint cuts off the rope, then backs away as the mer rubs his wrists, glaring.

Clint sighs. “I’m Clint,” he offers. “Me and mine mean you no harm, and if you’ll let our doctor look you over, we’ll put you back in the ocean once he determines that you’re okay.”

“I’m not that kind of doctor,” Bruce hisses. Clint ignores him.

“_You’re _ Clint?” The mer says, a shocked look on his face. Clint nods warily. “Scale rot!” The mer curses. “Bucky never mentioned you were a _ pirate._”

“You know Bucky?” Clint asks, surprised.

“Since I was a guppy,” the mer answers. “I’m Steve. Bucky may have introduced me as Grant, the overprotective bastard.”

“Huh,” Clint says, sitting back on his heels, “Small world.”

“Not really,” Steve says, “Do you really have something that can stop me from drying out?”

Clint nods. “Yeah, but I’ll have to carry you to get you there. It’s belowdecks.”

“How do I know you’re not going to kill me?” Steve asks suspiciously.

Clint barks a laugh, sweeping Steve into his arms. “That’s exactly what Bucky said.”

~~

Steve’s been in the tub for nearly two hours when Kate comes running into the room frantically. “Hey, Clint?”

“What’s happening?” Clint asks, immediately on alert. Kate doesn’t get panicked, but she’s panicking now. 

“There’s a whole bunch of merfolk in the water, and they’ve all got weapons and shit, and they’re yelling that we stole their prince? And if we don’t give him back they’re going to capsize our ship and kill us?” Clint pinches the bridge of his nose. 

“You wouldn’t happen to be the prince, would you, Steve?” He asks dryly, turning to face Steve.

Steve waves sheepishly. “There is a more than likely chance that I am, yes.”

Clint groans and picks Steve up, then starts walking towards the stairs. “Maybe share that information next time, Steve? I’d hate to lose my ship over a misunderstanding.” He stumbles, slamming into a wall as the _ Avenger _ rocks violently. “What the fuck was that?” He says flatly, speeding up.

Steve winces. “They’re trying to capsize you.”

“Well, make them stop,” Clint says as they reach the rail, and then he tosses Steve overboard, holding in his laughter at Steve’s yelp of surprise. A few tense minutes pass, and then Steve’s head pops above water, a smile on his face.

“They’re sorry for the trouble, and you’re free to go!” He calls up to them, then waves and dives back underwater. 

“Definitely not my favourite merman,” Clint says to himself, shaking his head. 

“Well, I should hope not!” A familiar voice says from the water. 

Clint looks down, a grin spreading across his face. “Bucky!” He cries, shedding his weapons and shirt and diving into the water. Surfacing, he shoves his wet hair out of his eyes and grins at Bucky. “Hi,” he breathes. 

“Hi Clint,” Bucky says, amused. 

“I missed you,” Clint blurts.

Bucky blinks at him, then a soft smile spreads over his face. “I missed you too.” They tread water in silence for a minute or two, and then, “Thanks for rescuing Steve,” Bucky says, “Idiot went and got himself caught trying to free a sea turtle from a trap. Was above water before I could do anything.”

“Glad I could help,” Clint says honestly. “Was nice to meet another mer. Now I _ know _ that you’re my favourite.” 

Bucky blushes, grinning. “You’re my favourite human,” he says softly. Clint grins at him bashfully. “You saved me the trouble of having to come get him myself. I’m really glad they didn’t capsize your ship.”

“Me too,” Clint says. They’re drifting closer together, their fingers nearly brushing when a head pops out of the water, startling them both. 

“So this is the human you won’t shut up about,” the new mer says, examining Clint. “What makes him so special?"

Bucky sighs. “Clint, this is Tony. I’ve known him since we were guppies as well. Unfortunately.”

“Unfortunately! What do you mean, _ unfortunately_?” Tony squawks. Clint can tell he’s gearing up for a full rant, but he’s cut off when Steve pops up, apologizes, and drags Tony underwater again.

“I’d love to stay and chat, Clint, but it’s migration season,” Bucky says apologetically. “They won’t wait long, and I promised my sister I’d tow her along the currents.”

“It’s okay, Bucky,” Clint says, “We seem to be fated to keep meeting, so I’m sure we’ll see each other again.”

“I sure hope so,” Bucky says, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. “I like seeing you.”  
  
“I like seeing you too, Bucky,” Clint says, grinning. They tread water in silence for a moment longer, then before Clint can react, Bucky darts in close and kind of... brushes his nose along Clint’s cheek? Whatever it means, Bucky’s gone before Clint can ask, and he finds himself being lifted back onto his ship in a daze.

“Are you alright, Clint?” Thor booms. “You look stricken.” 

“Everything’s fine, buddy,” Clint says distractedly, fighting to keep his hand from tracing the path of Bucky’s nose. “Right as rain.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Natasha kills most of Rumlow's men, and then Clint stabs Rumlow through the eye, killing him.


	4. Clint saves Bucky (and some guppies)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a rockslide, some guppies, and some swimming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (also written for Winterhawk Bingo Square G1 - Dumbasses in Love)

**~~(4)~~**

“You’re ridiculous,” Nat says, amusement clear in her voice.

Clint looks up at her from the ground, laughing as he tries to keep Lucky from licking his face. “You _ wish _ you were down here with us.”

Nat raises an eyebrow. “Considering I saw a drunk empty his stomach right where you’re laying, no, Clint. I really don’t.” Clint scrunches up his nose in disgust, opening his mouth to say something when Lucky freezes, lifts his head, barks once, and takes off, vanishing in a cloud of dust back towards the shore.

Clint exchanges a shocked look with Natasha, and then they’re both off, running after Lucky and calling his name. “Lucky! C’mere boy!” Clint shouts, barely catching a glimpse of Lucky’s tag disappearing over a pile of rocks.

“If I break my ankle climbing over those rocks because of that dog, Clint,” Tasha threatens. 

Clint ignores her, searching for the distinctive flash of sun off Lucky’s fur. “There!” He shouts, stumbling down the pile of rocks, nearly taking them all down with him. “Lucky, you can’t go running off like that! You had me worried sick!”

Lucky whines, pawing at the rocks. Clint scratches behind his ear, glancing at the rocks. There’s a small gap that Lucky keeps nosing at, so Clint puts his ear up to it and listens. “Is anyone out there?”

“Shit,” Clint breathes. “Hey, can you hear me?”

Silence, and then, “Clint?”

Clint blinks. “Bucky? How the hell did you get trapped in there?”

“Clint, you have to get us out of here! I’ve got guppies in here with me, and they’ve been out of the water for too long!” Bucky sounds frantic. Tasha squeezes Clint’s shoulder and starts climbing back up the rockpile, presumably to get the crew.

“Alright, Bucky, I need you to calm down,” Clint says, keeping his voice level. “Natasha has gone to get the rest of my crew, and _ only _ my crew, so we can help you out of there. Can you tell me how many guppies you have with you?”

“Three,” Bucky says shakily. “Any chance you can pass us some saltwater through that little hole? They need it pretty bad, Clint.”

“As soon as Natasha comes back,” Clint soothes, “She’s bringing water jugs with her, we’ll fill those and pass them through.”

“Okay,” Bucky says, and now that Clint’s listening for it, he can hear the soft cries of a child and Bucky’s gentle murmurs. “Hey, we’re going to be alright,” he’s saying, “You remember that human I told you about?” There’s a response too quiet for Clint to understand, then Bucky chuckles. “Yeah, the one with a smile like sea lava. He’s here, and he’s going to help us get out of here. Don’t move too much, okay? We’ve gotta conserve your strength.”

“You alright in there?” Clint asks, pulling Lucky away from sniffing at the rocks.

“Clint, they don’t have much longer,” Bucky says softly.

“It’s okay, Bucky, we’ll get you out of there,” Clint says, and he chances a look back at the top of the rockpile and sees Tasha and Thor making their way down, with Kate, Wanda, Pietro, Bruce, and a girl that Clint doesn’t recognize following behind them, their hands full of empty water jugs. “My crew’s here, I’m going to go tell them what to do and I’ll be right back, alright?”

He jogs over to Tasha, opening his mouth to ask who the new girl is but she beats him to it. “This is Shuri,” she explains, “She knows a little of what we’re dealing with, so I brought her along.”

Clint looks at Shuri, and she stares him dead in the eye unflinchingly. “These people are my family,” Clint emphasizes. “If I find out that you have any ill will towards them, no one will ever find your body.”

“Respectable,” Shuri remarks, smirking at him. 

Clint blinks at her, then turns to face his crew. “Thor, Tasha, Pietro. You’re on clearing out rocks - try to make a hole big enough for the water jugs to fit through, then we’ll start working on making it mer-sized. Wanda, Kate, Shuri. Fill the water jugs. As many as you can, as fast as you can. Bruce, you’re helping with water until we get them out, I may need your doctor skills.”

They get to work, falling into a tense silence. When the hole is finally big enough to push some water through, Clint immediately starts handing over the water. Bucky and the guppies are pouring it over top of themselves almost faster than Clint can hand it over, and he quickly pulls Tasha off rock duty and puts her on water duty. 

Once the guppies aren’t in danger of drying out, Clint, Thor and Pietro get to work on moving the rocks, making it big enough for a small child to crawl through. “Alright, let’s see if that’s big enough,” Clint says, ushering his crew back and yanking Wanda forwards. A small hand pokes through the hole cautiously, and a baby mer follows shortly afterwards. Wanda bends down and extends her hand, but the baby mer flinches back, looking terrified.

“It’s okay,” Wanda murmurs, “I’m here to help you.” She starts humming an old lullaby, something Clint’s heard both her and Pietro hum before. The guppy perks up at the tune, pulling itself forward until Wanda can scoop it up and bring it to the ocean. 

“Alright, first guppy is back in the water and looking healthier by the minute,” Clint says into the hole. “Send the next one through!” The next two guppies he gives to Kate and Shuri, and they carry their guppies to the ocean and start splashing. “You’re next, Bucky,” Clint says. He doesn’t get a response. “Bucky, c’mon, answer me!” There’s nothing. “Guys!” He barks. “Get him out of there!” 

Everyone who isn’t holding a guppy jumps into action, pulling away rocks and clearing debris quickly. They slowly reveal the tiny space where Bucky was curled around the three guppies, made slightly more spacious by their removal. When they finally see Bucky, he’s not moving. Clint dives in to help, throwing rocks to the side furiously. He can see flaky patches of skin on Bucky’s torso and tail, and he’s got no doubt that the idiot mer gave all the water to the guppies and took none for himself. Finally, they’ve cleared enough debris that Clint can pull Bucky out, so he scoops him up and strides towards the ocean, not even bothering to unhook his weapons from his person before walking into the ocean and submerging them both. 

_ C’mon, Bucky, come back to me_, Clint thinks. He holds his breath until his lungs start burning, and then he holds them some more. _ Please_, he thinks, and just as he’s about to go above water to get some air, Bucky’s eyes flash open and he jerks violently. The edge of his tail hits Clint in the face, splitting the skin and causing a small cloud of blood to float through the water. 

Bucky’s eyes snap to his cheek, pupils going black. He reaches out a hand and traces over the split skin, but when Clint flinches under the shock of his touch, Bucky pulls back. Then his eyes widen and he shoves Clint towards the surface, holding him steady when he breaks the surface and gasps for breath. “You were going purple, you idiot!” He growls, holding Clint up effortlessly.

“Wanted... to make sure... you were... okay,” Clint pants, sucking in air. 

“I’d be less okay if you drowned,” Bucky scolds, propelling them back towards the shore. The guppies let out an excited shriek at the sight of him, and they squirm out of the girls’ arms and come swimming over, slowing down once they get within arms reach of Clint. 

“He’s all yours,” Clint says, and he winks and makes a funny face. Apparently that transcends species, because the guppies let out shrieks of laughter and crash into Bucky excitedly as Clint moves away. He drags himself onto dry land and collapses on the beach, chest heaving.

Tasha smacks him on the chest. “Don’t you _ ever _ do that again!” She hisses at him. “You were under for way too long!” Clint grunts at her and shuts his eyes, basking in the sun on his face and the fresh air in his lungs. 

And then a pile of wet sand hits him in the face. He jerks upright, spluttering. “Who did that?” He shouts, and the sound of giggling reaches his ears, making him look over at where the guppies were. They shriek when they see him looking over and duck underwater or behind Bucky, who’s outright laughing at him. It might be the most beautiful thing Clint’s ever seen.

Clint takes a minute and strips off his weapons, shirt and shoes before running full-tilt at the water and diving in, cutting through the water smoothly. He makes faces at the guppies as they swim around him, and their laughter reaches him through the water, admittedly muffled, but still adorable. He pops up in front of Bucky grinning, and says, “You shouldn’t laugh at other people’s pain, y’know.” 

“You got hit in the face with a fistful of sand, not rocks,” Bucky points out, smirking. “Not exactly excruciating.” 

Clint pouts. “It still hurt, y’know,” he says. He _ may _ be angling for Bucky to kiss it better, but he’s not even sure that mer have kissing, so... This may backfire on him terribly. 

Bucky reaches out and swipes a thumb across Clint’s cheekbone gently, lingering for a second that drags on forever while also being over too soon, and the corner of his mouth quirks up in an adorably shy grin. “I’m sure you’ll be okay,” he says wryly and then he moves in close and brushes his nose along Clint’s jawline again.

Clint has to stop himself from whining at the loss of Bucky’s warmth when he pulls away, swimming backwards and grabbing guppies as he passes them. “I should get them back,” he says, keeping eye contact. 

“Feel free to come and visit,” Clint says, winking. A flush rises on Bucky’s cheeks and he laughs, ducking his head. He only looks back once, just before he dives under the water, and Clint raises a hand in farewell, thankful that Bucky is too far to see the stupidly lovesick look on his face.

“Bye Bucky,” Clint breathes, and after Bucky vanishes underwater, Clint turns and starts heading back towards shore where Wanda and Shuri have fallen asleep on each other, Thor and Bruce are talking quietly near the rockslide with Pietro hovering by their shoulders, and Tasha’s waiting for him as he walks out of the water. 

“You should tell him,” she says as Clint pulls his clothes and weapons back on. 

“I will,” Clint says. “I will!” He insists, seeing the look on her face. “The next time I see him, I’ll tell him.” Tasha hums in response, leaving Clint feeling like he’s just passed some sort of test. He can’t stop himself from looking back one final time at the water, hoping, despite knowing that he’s gone, to catch one last glimpse of Bucky.

He thinks maybe he sees a glimpse of a tail above the water, but it turns out that the look he got at Bucky right before he vanished into the water is the last one he’s going to get for seven years.


	5. Clint saves Bucky (there are some tears)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky's gone missing, so Clint finds him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hoo boy! this is the longest chapter in this whole thing! seriously, this chapter alone almost doubled the word count. I hope you enjoy!

**~~(5)~~**

“Really, Clint?” Tasha asks, grabbing him by the hair and yanking him out of the brawl she just found him in. “Again?”

He spits some blood onto the ground, wincing as the movement splits his lip all over again. “He was asking for it,” Clint mumbles, trying to talk around his loose tooth. 

“No, you’re just drunk and spoiling for a fight.” She releases his hair and glares at him. “You have been ever since -”

“Don’t,” Clint snaps. “You know I don’t do drunk.” She inclines her head after a second, the only apology he’s going to get. “And this has nothing to do with... that. I’m just restless, Tash.”

“You’re also missing your merman,” she says, ignoring his growl. “Look, just because you haven’t seen him since then doesn’t mean anything, Clint. The ocean is a big place.”

“Not that big,” Clint mutters petulantly, limping up the gangplank. He stops dead when he sees the scene at the top. 

“What.” Tasha comes to a dead stop beside him, and Clint completely forgets the pain he’s in, jaw dropping open. 

Wanda, Shuri, Kate and America - they picked up America at a little port town a few years back, when she stowed away in their cargo hold, only to burst out when she heard Kate screaming that night. Kate was screaming because Thor was swinging her around wildly, but America thought she was in danger. They still tease her about it to this day. 

The four girls are tangled up in a mess of limbs, sprawled in front of the wheel, cursing up a storm as they try to free themselves without injuring each other. Pietro’s nowhere to be seen, but a flurry of curses reaches Clint’s ears and it’s coming from the other side of the ship, from the water. 

Bruce is behind Thor, looking exasperated, and Thor is holding a giant fork, pointing it at - “Steve?” Clint says in shock. 

“Clint! There you are!” Steve says. He gestures at Thor, who’s still holding the giant fork. “Can you tell your muscle here to give me back my trident so I can tell you what I came here to say?”

Clint nods at Thor and he lowers the trident. “Damn, Steve,” Clint says, walking across the deck, “You got big!”

Steve flushes, hoisting himself onto a crate. “Yeah, well, turns out that accepting the kingship when you’re as scrawny as I was has some effects.”

“Kingship?”

“Yeah,” Steve says, sighing. “King Steven Grant of the Brook-Lynne tribe, at your service.” He does a little bow, and Clint snorts.

“Well, Your Majesty, it’s an honour to have you aboard our humble ship,” Natasha says dryly. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve says, rolling his eyes. He leans forward, intently staring at Clint. “Clint, we found him.”

“Found who?” Clint asks.

Steve blinks. “Bucky!”

“Bucky’s missing?” Clint asks, snapping to attention. 

“You... You didn’t know?” Steve asks, sitting back in shock.

Clint shakes his head. “Steve, the last time I saw Bucky was seven years ago, when I pulled him out of a rockslide.”

“Did he have guppies with him?” The intensity in Steve’s voice is kind of worrying, and Clint’s starting to come up with worst-case scenarios. 

“Yeah, three. Why?” 

Steve sighs and scrubs a hand over his face. “Clint, they never made it back to us.” His words hit Clint like a mast to the chest, and he stumbles backwards, leaning heavily on Thor for support.

“I _ saw _ them,” he chokes out, “They were _ fine_. Laughing at my silly faces, and Bucky did this thing with his nose... Steve, they were _ fine _.”

Steve watches him sympathetically, too far away to reach out and comfort him. “It’s not your fault, Clint,” he says gently. “It’s not like you could have followed him. There’s nothing you could’ve done.”

“Yeah? And how often have those words made you feel better over the years, Steve?” Clint spits, immediately regretting it. 

Steve sighs. “You’re right, and I’m sorry. The important thing is that we found him -”

“Where?” Clint says, pulling himself together. Steve shoots him a look but Clint ignores it, focused only on finding Bucky. “Steve, _ where _?”

“My kind calls it... well, your words for it are Death Island. My tribe has been losing mers, both fully grown and guppies there for ages, since before my mother took the kingship.” Steve shakes his head. “We tell all our guppies to stay away from it - I don’t know _ why _ Bucky would have gone anywhere near it! He knows better than that.”

“We can ask him when we find him,” Clint says determinedly, mind already racing. “How far is this place from here?”

Steve blinks. “Clint, you don’t have to come. I was just letting you know and -”

“Steve,” Clint interrupts, voice low. “If you think for one _ second _ that I am not coming with you, you are not a very good judge of character.”

Steve looks at him, and he must find what he’s looking for, because he nods and says, “And them?” He gestures to the rest of his crew. 

“Where Clint goes, I go,” Kate pipes up, and America nods from beside her, grabbing ahold of Kate’s hand and staring defiantly.

“I will not desert our captain now,” Thor says solemnly. “He took me and my love in when we had nowhere. I would help him rescue his love.”

Wanda, Pietro and Shuri say nothing, just nodding at him once. When he looks at Tasha, she scoffs. “Like you even have to ask.”

“Fine, they can all come,” Steve says, exasperated. “We’re going to need all the help we can get.” 

“Give us two hours to get supplies. We’ll follow you out then.” Clint scoops Steve up in his arms, barely grunting at how much heavier he is and strides over to the rail.

“Clint, you can’t throw me overboard I’m a king now -” Steve’s protests are cut off with a squawk as Clint tosses him overboard, barely cracking a smile as Steve hits the water with a curse and a splash.

“What do we do, Captain?” Shuri says, standing and pulling Wanda up with her. 

Clint takes a deep breath. “Kate, America - get all the weapons that this ship can carry and toss them in the armoury. Something tells me we’re going to need them. Thor, Pietro - take everything that can be spared and get it off this ship. There’s a storage building in town, buy a space and put it there. I don’t care how much coin it costs. Bruce - stock up on medical supplies. I don’t know what shape Bucky’s going to be in when we find him, and there are likely to be other mers that will be injured. I’m not leaving a single mer behind on that island.”

“And me?” Natasha asks, flipping a knife over her knuckles.

“You remember the village of Buda? Over in Pest?” Clint asks. 

She blinks. “As if I could forget.”

A smile spreads across Clint’s face. It’s not a nice smile. “I need ten times that.”

“Consider it done,” she says, and hops off the crate she was perched on. When she passes him, she puts a gentle hand on his cheek and murmurs, “We will find him.”

“We have to find him.” With that, his crew - his _ family _ \- heads into town to follow his orders. Clint allows himself five seconds to shake apart, then another five to stick his tattered pieces back together, and then he’s heading belowdecks. 

Two flights of stairs and a hidden door later, he’s deep in the bowels of the _ Avenger_, deeper than he’s been in years. He blows some dust off an old box, fingers trailing over the deeply coloured cloth inside and the rip in the shoulder crusted with dried blood. “Hello, old friend,” he murmurs, coming to a stop in front of an innocuous wooden box, engraved only with a simple arrow. Steeling himself, he pulls out his old bow, turning it over in his hands gently. 

“Been a while.” His voice fills the dusty old room, excruciatingly loud to his ears even though his voice is barely above a whisper. Falling silent, Clint pulls the small tin of whale blubber out of the box and greases the bow until it makes no sound when he draws. Closing the box gently, Clint stoops to pick up another box, this one full of arrows.

“For Bucky,” he says, and then he leaves, the only indication he was ever there a slight disturbance in the dust.

~~

He’s a little worried that his skill will have downgraded. It’s been years since he last shot a bow. And sure enough, his first shot is off. Not by much, but by enough that it would have earned him a beating back when - well, back when he didn’t have a family he chose, full of people who loved him, who couldn’t give one single shit about whether the arrow was a finger’s breadth off from dead center.

He falls into the familiar space in his head, the one where emotions are distant and he can look at things without being influenced by them. Realistically, Clint knows why he put down his bow all those years ago. He spent hours upon hours upon hours shooting and shooting until his hands were bloody and he could barely keep his eyes open. 

It’s a miracle he didn’t shoot someone. If Nat hadn’t taken his bow away from him and forced him into his bed, well... He owes Nat a lot, that’s all. A couple years ago, he heard from some drunk in a bar that the _ Cirque _ capsized, the survivors picked up by the Royal Navy and jailed. He didn’t know how to feel about it then, and he doesn’t know how to feel about it now, but there’s a tiny little part of him that’s viciously glad the _ Cirque _ is at the bottom of the ocean, along with that stupid tank.

Emotionally, Clint hated every second his bow was locked up in the depths of the _ Avenger_, and the second it’s back in his hand something deep inside him uncoils, and tension he didn’t even know he was carrying drops off his shoulders. The longer he shoots, the more he relaxes, until he’s so relaxed that he doesn’t even turn around when he hears Kate and America stomp up the gangplank.

“Alright, Clint, we got everything we could find - holy shit!” Kate stops dead beside him, mouth wide open. “No way you shot all those!” She exclaims, gesturing at the crate he was using as a target.

It’s bristling with arrows, some sunk so deep into the wood only the fletching is visible, and Clint shrugs. “I’ve had practice,” he says quietly, and he moves towards the crate to pull them out. With how he suspects things are going to go, he’s going to need all the ammo he can get his hands on.

“Do it again!” She demands petulantly, and she’s got that look on her face that means she’s not going to leave him alone until he does what she wants. So Clint sighs, nocks another arrow, and fires, never looking away from her face. He hears the thunk of the arrow hitting his target, and Kate’s mouth drops even further open, if that’s even possible, and she starts stammering. 

“C’mon, princess,” America says, inclining her head at Clint, “Let’s leave Clint alone so he can gather his ammo.”

“Did you see what he did? That was the coolest thing I’ve ever seen!” Kate’s babbling fades away as her and America head belowdecks to start storing the weaponry, and Clint indulges in a smirk, a teeny part of him relishing the praise.

Thor and Pietro are back next, carrying a rolled up message with their lot number from the storage place on it. “It is good to see you with your weapon of choice again, my friend.” Thor claps him on the shoulder, nearly making his knees buckle.

Pietro scoffs. “Bah. You probably couldn’t hit an apple off my head with that thing, old man.”

“I’ll hit you _ in _ the head if you don’t go help Kate and America with the weapons,” Clint threatens with a smirk. Pietro goes. 

Back next is Bruce, loaded down with medical supplies. Thor rushes to go help his other half, and Bruce nods at Clint as they pass him by. 

Finally, Tasha comes back, sauntering up the gangplank empty-handed. Before Clint can say anything, she lets loose a shrill whistle, and three well-muscled guys come running onto the _ Avenger_, carrying crates on their backs. “Put those in the hold,” Tasha instructs, and they obey without a word. “Gently!” She calls after them, and their footsteps slow slightly.

Clint opens his mouth to say something, but she holds up a hand and lets out another whistle. A fourth guy comes up the gangplank, carefully holding a box that looks frighteningly familiar. “Tasha,” Clint says, voice slightly shaky.

She shushes him, taking the box from the stranger, tucking some coin into his hand and ushering him off the ship. “If we are going to save your merman,” she says, “you are going to need all the ammo you can get your hands on.” She pushes the box into his hands, then leaves him alone on the deck.

He stares at the box in his hands, knuckles white as he holds it. He’s not sure why he’s having such a reaction to it, but it’s probably because this might be the first time he’s ever received something to do with his archery in a positive way. Regardless, he doesn’t have time to deal with it. He puts the box to the side, shaking his head to rid himself of the fog of memories using his bow has brought. 

Slowly, his crew trickles back above deck, surrounding him in a loose circle. “Anyone doesn’t want to come with us to save Bucky,” Clint says, looking them each in the eye, “Leave now.” No one moves.

“He’s our family too, Clint,” Wanda says softly.

Clint nods. “Alright. I’m not going to lie, this is going to suck. You’ll probably get hurt, you’ll definitely see others get hurt, and there’s a halfway decent chance you’ll see someone die. None of this is going to be pretty, and I won’t blame any of you if you would rather stay back here with Bruce. There’s no shame in that.”

He’s not surprised when Wanda raises her hand, but he is a little surprised when Shuri does as well. “I have seen too much blood and death in my time,” she says, and Clint nods. 

“You’ll both be helping Bruce with medical. I’ll let him assign you further.”

A shout grabs Clint’s attention and he pokes his head over the side to see Steve and Tony, as well as an unfamiliar mer, waiting for him. “You ready to go, human?” Tony calls. Clint can see him twitching from where he’s standing. 

“Yeah, how we doin’ this?” He shouts back, and then Steve makes a complicated gesture with his trident and the unfamiliar mer shoots up on a geyser of water, landing with a _ thump _ on the deck. 

“My name is Virginia,” the mer says, “You may call me Pepper. I am one of His Majesty’s most trusted advisors, and I will be guiding you on this journey to rescue James.”

“‘M Clint,” he says, and he pokes his head back over the rail, raising an eyebrow at Steve. 

“Hey, Pepper’s terrifying,” Steve says, shrugging. “She’s also competent as shit and scary to boot.”

“I’ll make sure not to piss her off then,” Clint says dryly, and Steve and Tony vanish under the waves. “Shall we get under way?” Clint asks, and Pepper directs him to head east, away from the setting sun.

~~

In the end, it takes them two days to reach Death Island. There’s a small rocky outcropping far enough away that they can dock there without fear of being seen, so they disembark there to meet with Steve. 

It might be the oddest war council Clint’s ever been to, not that he’s been to many war councils. Half the attendees are human, standing or kneeling in the water, submerged only to their knees. The other half are mers, sitting in the water awkwardly, their top halves out of the water. 

“We cannot possibly trust them!” One mer says, sneering at Clint. “They’re _ humans_. Humans are the ones that took James.”

“Yeah, and us humans are the ones that are going to help you get him back, so why don’t you stop wasting time and get on with the damn rescue plan already?” Kate says furiously. 

“How dare you speak to me in that way,” the mer puffs out their chest and glares, “Do you have any idea who I am?”

“Considering where you’re placed, and how every other mer here has been glaring at you behind your back for the last ten minutes while you bluster on about how this should be a mer-only mission,” Natasha cuts in smoothly, not even looking up from her knife, “We do not _ need _ to know who you are, because you are unimportant. Now shush, dear, the adults are talking.”

“I like her,” Tony whispers to Pepper. Pepper grins. It’s terrifying. 

“Good,” Steve starts, relief clear in his voice, “Here’s the plan.”

~~

Clint’s shoulders are aching. He’s been firing his bow practically non-stop for the last hour, and somehow he still hasn’t run out of arrows. Fuck, he owes Natasha big time. Something flashes out of the corner of his eye and he nocks and looses an arrow, barely even taking a breath. His arrow flies true, slamming into the skull of someone about to bury an axe in Thor’s back. Thor grins ferally at him, blood-spattered and vicious, then dives back into the fray. 

Clint fights his way through a throng of men, using his bow as a staff and bashing in heads. He leaves a trail of bodies in his wake, rarely leaving any alive. At some point, Tasha joins him, blood smeared over her cheek and a wild grin on her face. It’s terrifying and Clint falls in love with her just a little bit more seeing it.

“Shall we go find your boy?” She asks, slitting a throat and stepping neatly out of the way of the spray of blood.

“After you, milady,” Clint says, bowing. She smirks at him and curtseys delicately, then promptly jams her dagger into a stomach, downing the poor fellow. With Tasha at his side, Clint fights like he’s never fought before - except maybe in Buda, but that’s a whole other story - and soon enough, they make their way to the center of the island - a large building with bars on the windows and three feet thick stone walls. 

“Go,” Tasha says, and Clint pulls the explosive out of his pocket and molds it to the doorframe.

“Down,” Clint mutters, and he and Tasha roll out of the way to behind a boulder, avoiding the blast by the skin of their teeth.

“Bring him home, Clint,” Tasha says, grabbing Clint’s chin in her hand.

“As if I’d leave without him,” Clint swears, and then he leaves her behind, swinging his bow over his shoulder, pulling out his gleaming swords and stalking into the building like Death Incarnate, ready to storm the gates of hell to get what is his. Pietro joins him, but Clint barely spares him a glance, completely focused on saving Bucky.

He reaches the first cell and finds a small child - human in appearance, but something about the ice-cold blue of their eyes has Clint shivering. He breaks the lock on the door, shatters the chains around their ankle and sends them out of the building. The next cell contains a mer, nearly all the way dried out, and Clint sets Pietro to bringing them back to the ship for medical.

The two cells after that contain only bodies, both mer, and Clint makes a note to come back for them so he can return them to Steve for whatever burial rites the mer have. He scratches an ‘X’ in the door so he knows what’s inside and then moves on.

In the fourth cell, Clint finds a mer that’s still alive, but only barely. The mer’s tail has been cut off just below the waist, fairly recently, and there was no attempt to bandage the wound. “Please...” the mer croaks, reaching out for Clint weakly. 

“I’m sorry this was done to you,” Clint says quietly, “Let me bring you peace.”

“Thank you,” the mer breathes, and right before Clint’s sword sinks into their heart, an expression of bliss crosses their face. Clint lets himself shed a few tears, but then he shoves the sorrow down and moves on. There’s nothing like that in any of the other rooms, thankfully, but when Clint comes across some young guppies, looking about eight years old, he hesitates.

And then he makes a face. It surprises a laugh out of one of them, and then they look curiously at him. “Clint,” they say slowly.

“Yeah, that’s me,” Clint says, nearly crying in relief. “You guys know where Bucky is?”

“Bucky,” a different guppy says, and that one reaches out and grabs Clint’s hand, clearly intending to lead him to Bucky. Clint hesitates, but has no choice but to allow it - as reluctant as he is to bring a child with him, he doesn’t know his way around and the child will be with him, safe. 

“Pietro, get these guppies to safety.” Pietro lifts the two guppies into his arms, the act made easier by how underweight they are. “I’ll bring this one out when we find Bucky,” Clint says, and Pietro nods. Clint scoops the third guppy into his arms, and follows the tugs on his sleeve, eventually coming to a stone door.

“Bucky,” the guppy says insistently, pointing at the door.

“Yeah I know, honey,” Clint says softly, “I need you to cover your ears, okay?” The guppy looks at him, confused. Clint brings the guppy’s hands to their ears and presses. “Cover,” he says slowly. The guppy nods at him, then buries their head in Clint’s chest. Clint sets out the explosive, then darts around the corner, protecting himself and the guppy from the blast. Coughing, Clint runs inside the newly opened room, eyes darting around frantically.

A groan draws his attention and he races over to a lab table, eyes lighting with relief when he sees Bucky. Underweight, down an arm - _ down an arm_, fuck - and looking sick as shit, but alive. “Bucky, hey, you with me?” Clint asks, undoing the restraints on Bucky’s arm and tail.

“Clint?” Bucky asks groggily, eyes unable to focus on Clint’s face. 

The guppy in Clint’s arms whimpers at the sight of Bucky, reaching out to him. “Bucky,” they whine, then start babbling in the mer’s native language. Bucky’s confusion only grows, and he looks at Clint when the guppy starts to cry a little louder. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” Clint soothes, rubbing the guppy’s back, “Bucky’s okay, he’s just a little sleepy right now, so you gotta be quiet, alright?” The guppy nods, hiccuping and Clint shifts them around until he’s got both arms free to lift Bucky.

“Knew you’d come for me,” Bucky slurs as Clint lifts him. He weighs about as much as he did when Clint was fifteen, and that’s terrifying. “Never gave up on you, Clint,” Bucky says, and then he goes limp in Clint’s arms.

Clint breaks into a run, quickly passing the rooms with dead mers in them and breaking free of the compound’s walls within moments. He doesn’t stop running, heading directly for his ship and Bruce. His feet pound up the gangplank and he races belowdecks, skidding to a stop outside Bruce’s makeshift medical room and gently depositing the guppy onto a small bed. “I’ll be back, okay? I promise,” Clint says, and that seems to calm the guppy, as they stop crying and settle into the bed, watching him walk away with big eyes. 

“You found him?” Bruce asks, appearing at his side as Clint deposits Bucky onto a bed. 

“He’s underweight, dehydrated, and I don’t know how well his arm healed,” Clint says, running a hand through his hair. 

“I’ve got him, Clint,” Bruce says gently. “Go get something to eat, take a moment to come down.”

“I can’t just leave him -”

“You can and you will,” Bruce says firmly, cutting him off. “You’ll only be in my way if you stay. Go tell Steve that you’ve found him, I’m sure he’s worried sick.”

“Steve,” Clint says blankly. He can feel himself shutting down. “Right.” He doesn’t remember walking out of the medical room, only faint flashes of walking past the guppy he saved sleeping stay in his memory. 

He doesn’t remember how he gets to the shoreline, wading into the water and telling Steve that they’ve found him, that Bucky’s alive. 

He does remember an older mer swimming up to him and pulling him into a hug, thanking him for saving her boy. Clint stands there, accepting the praise blankly, brushing off their thanks in a charming way, and when they’re done, he walks behind a rock and vomits onto the ground.

“It’s over, Clint,” Tasha says, her hand cool on the back of his neck. “We got him.”

“What if we were too late?” Clint croaks, his voice shot to shit after all the dust and other crap he probably swallowed while in the compound. 

“We weren’t,” Tasha says, and Clint almost believes her.

They sit in silence for what feels like hours, keeping a vigil for the mer that Clint found dead, and the one he had to kill, until just before the sun rises, Shuri comes running up to them, panting. “He’s awake!” She says, and Clint’s off, sprinting towards the _ Avenger _ and keeping pace with Steve, who’s going just as fast as him, only in the water. 

They reach the ship at the same time, and by the time Clint’s pounded up the gangplank, Steve is waiting for him on the deck. Clint barely slows down as he scoops Steve up, and he doesn’t apologize for the bumps that Steve gets as Clint careens down the stairs and around corners - but then, Steve doesn’t complain either.

They burst through the door and Bruce lifts his head from Bucky’s arm wearily. “If you’re going to be loud, you can leave,” he says firmly. “None of these people need that right now.”

“Won’t, Bruce, swear,” Clint breathes, eyes glued to Bucky’s unconscious figure. He deposits Steve onto a chair beside the tub, and moves around to the other side. Bucky’s face is gaunt, his cheekbones - all his bones, for that matter - in sharp relief, standing out from his body like mountains. 

“Tell me he’s going to be okay, Clint,” Steve says shakily.

Before Clint can respond, Bucky shifts on the table and opens his eyes. He blinks blearily, his head lolling to the side. When he sees Steve, his whole body tenses. “Stevie?” He asks, his voice barely recognizable. 

“Yeah, Buck,” Steve says, eyes watering, “I’m here.”

“Though’ it was a dream,” Bucky says quietly, a tear running down his face. With visible effort, Bucky’s head turns the other way, and when he meets Clint’s eyes, he lets out a great, shuddery sob. “Knew you’d come,” he rasps, “You always save me.”

“And I always will,” Clint says, pressing his lips to Bucky’s hand. “Get some rest, baby, you’ve got a long way to go.”

“‘S long ‘s you’re there wi’ me,” Bucky slurs, his eyes already drifting shut. Clint holds back a sob until he’s sure Bucky’s asleep, and then, hunched over Bucky’s sleeping body, he breaks down into tears. Steve puts his hand over Clint and Bucky’s, and the two of them cry until they can’t cry anymore, their tears drying into tracks on their face.

“Why were we leaking?” Steve asks hoarsely once they’re done.

Despite himself, Clint snorts a laugh. “It’s called crying. Those were called tears. They’re saltwater, so you don’t have them in the ocean. Humans cry when we’re sad.”

“But I’m not sad,” Steve says, confused, “We got Bucky back. I’m happy.”

“Yeah, well, humans cry when they’re happy too.”

“That’s stupid,” Steve says petulantly, and Clint laughs again. His shoulders are in agony, his throat hurts, and he’s pretty sure he broke his finger when he broke an arrow off in some guys nose, but this is the best Clint can remember feeling in years.

He tightens his hold on Bucky’s hand and breathes in deeply. It’s over. They’ve got him. Bucky’s safe.


	6. Bucky saves Clint (always)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky saves Clint.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and this is it! the final chapter! I hope you enjoyed your birthday gift lovely, and I hope you had an amazing day!

**~~(+1)~~**

After they found Bucky on Death Island, he was too weak to immediately go back to the ocean with Steve. Clint volunteered his time and his ship as a place for Bucky to heal, and after a few modifications, and a _ lot _ of help from the mer, the _ Avenger _ was the first (and only) mer-compatible ship. 

Still, a ship wasn’t exactly the best place for traumatized mer to recover. More than one, as it turned out, because the guppy that led Clint to Bucky ended up being an orphan, and he refused to leave Clint’s side. So Clint took him in, which meant he had to find a stable home to raise him. That search added a couple more months, but eventually, they settled on an uninhabited island in the middle of nowhere. It took another four months of Clint and his crew working day and night to get the place child/guppy ready, _ while _ adding all the requirements of a mer/human dwelling.

Clint was exhausted by the time they finished. They all were. But it was all worth it when they saw the look on Bucky’s face when they unveiled it for the first time. It was the first time Clint had seen him smile since they rescued him. 

The guppy, Cooper, took a little longer to warm up to the place, but when he saw his room - half-in, half-out of the water, perfect for a curious little guppy - he fell in love. He didn’t leave that room for a solid two days, and in the end only came out because Bucky tempted him out with starfish. Seeing the two of them together, Cooper all curled up in Bucky’s lap, made Clint’s chest clench and he had to turn away, fighting back tears.

The three of them spent eight months on their little island, healing their bodies and minds. By the time Bucky was healthy enough to go back into the ocean, Clint had fallen deeply, irrevocably, ineffably in love with him all over again, and he had resigned himself to only seeing Bucky every now and again - but Bucky had different plans. When Steve came out of the water on the day that Bucky was supposed to go back, Clint had braced himself to say goodbye to both Bucky and Cooper, assuming that the little guppy would be going back to his own kind.

But Steve had just handed Bucky something, waved at Clint, and headed back under the water, vanishing with a flick of his tail. Clint had looked at Bucky, confused, as Bucky handed him Cooper and put whatever it was that Steve had given him over his head and around his neck. There was a flash of light and a curse from Bucky, and when Clint looked up again Bucky had legs. Two long, beautiful human legs - with thighs to die for. 

“What the fuck?” Clint had said, and Bucky laughed at him. 

“You didn’t really think I was going to leave, did you?” Bucky asked, taking a few steps and wobbling like a newborn baby. Clint hadn’t answered, just held Cooper a little tighter with one arm and used the other to steady Bucky as he walked. Bucky sees the look on his face and his own face softens. “I was never going to leave you, Clint,” he had said firmly, squeezing Clint’s arm. 

He had leaned in and brushed his nose along Clint’s cheekbone again, and Clint hadn’t been able to stop himself from asking, “What does that mean?”

Bucky had blinked at him. “You really don’t know?” Clint shook his head. “It means - well, it means that you’re mine. It’s what mer do to signify their interest in a potential bond.”

Clint blinked at him. “Wanna know what humans do to indicate their interest?” He had asked slyly, and when Bucky nodded, Clint had put Cooper down gently between his feet and pulled Bucky into a kiss. It took a few seconds, but Bucky got the hang of it pretty quickly, and by the time they had pulled apart, they were both panting and Bucky was flushed.

“Let’s do that again,” he had said, eyes bright, and Clint had laughed at him and obliged. The next day, the _ Avenger _ had shown up, packed near to bursting with all sorts of supplies. 

“Steve told us to be prepared,” Tasha smirked, amusement clear on her features. It had taken them a couple of days to get situated after the _ Avenger _ and crew had left, and when Clint got back from handing down his captain’s hat to Natasha, Bucky had pulled him into a hug and let him cry.

The next year had been bliss, just the three of them on their little island paradise. Cooper grew into an amazing young mer, and soon enough, he had his own leg-lace as well (Bucky hated that name, but both Clint and Cooper loved it, so he was outvoted). 

Bucky had gone out one day, taking off his necklace and regaining his tail with a flash. He had kissed Clint goodbye and then disappeared into the water, and Clint had spent a quiet few hours with Cooper, teaching him how to read the common human tongue. And then the bell they kept on the beach for emergencies rang.

Clint had scooped up Cooper and his bow and raced down to the beach, images of Bucky bleeding on the sand flashing through his mind. He got to the beach and found Bucky, perfectly intact, holding a squalling human toddler with a terrified look on her face. “Where did you find _ that _?” Clint asked, automatically taking the toddler and rubbing gentle circles on her back. 

“There’s a shipwreck a ways out,” Bucky had said, already preparing to go back out. “She was the only survivor I could find, but she was screaming so loud I’m surprised you didn’t hear her from here. I’m going back out to look for anyone else.”

“Be safe,” Clint said, pressing a fleeting kiss to Bucky’s lips, and then he watched Bucky swim away, absentmindedly rocking the toddler in his arms. “Let’s get you out of the sun, hm, little one?” He murmurs, talking to the toddler absentmindedly. 

“What’s that?” Cooper asked, staring curiously at the baby.

“It’s a human baby,” Clint had explained and that turned into a three-hour conversation on the difference between humans and mer, ending only when Bucky stumbled into their home, sunburnt and exhausted. He collapsed at the table, eyes drooping shut. 

“‘S she okay?” He asked, blinking up at Clint blearily. 

“Just a little sunburnt, like you,” Clint said, and he ushered Bucky into their bed and Cooper into his, then prepared himself to sit at the table with the baby all night, to feed her and soothe her pain. 

They ended up naming her Lila, as she refused to speak - or perhaps couldn’t speak - and when pushed, didn’t remember her name. Cooper was thrilled to have a little sister, and Clint had to admit it was nice to have another kid around.

So, the three of them became the four of them. Clint built another room so Lila could have her own space, although she did prefer to sleep with Cooper. Natasha came by a couple of months later and dropped Lucky off, claiming that he was too much trouble for her to keep around. Lila and Cooper fell in love with the pup immediately, and Lucky loved being doted on.  
They settled into a comfortable rhythm, teaching their kids about their respective cultures, as well as various other skills. Lila became obsessed with the ocean, asking Bucky countless questions about how mer society works, often talking to the point of hoarseness.

Cooper was obsessed with the ocean too, albeit in a different fashion. He was always asking Clint or Bucky to take him up to the highest point on the island so he can see as far as possible. Clint had an inkling that Cooper was going to become an explorer when he got old enough, and he had to hold back his laughter at Bucky’s panicked expression.

It was the four of them and Lucky for nearly four years when the emergency bell rings. Lila and Cooper were already asleep in their rooms with Lucky, so Bucky and Clint had grabbed weapons, water, and a medical kit before running down to the shoreline. There, they found a half-conscious young mer girl floating face-up in the water. 

Her hand was cradled to her chest, protecting what Clint thought was just a bundle of rags - until it started to cry. He and Bucky jumped into action, Clint lifting the young mother out of the water and bringing her back to the house. As soon as he lay her down, she jolted upright, then leaned over and vomited over the side of the bed. Bucky went white when he saw the pitch-black vomit, and he promptly grabbed the baby from her and left the room, leaving only Clint and the mother of the baby inside. 

“Bucky, what’s happening?” Clint asked, keeping his voice calm. 

“She’s sick, Clint,” Bucky said softly. “It’s only contagious to other mer, but it’s fatal. There’s no way to save her life and she probably knew that. She came here in the hopes that we could save her baby.”

The mer had said something then, but her voice was torn to shreds and Clint couldn’t understand her. He got her some water and helped her swallow it down and when she spoke again, her voice had been much more easily understood. “Thank you,” she said hoarsely. “Is my baby okay? I don’t remember much past finding out I was sick and swimming as far away as fast as I could. I tried to avoid anyone else I saw, I didn’t want to infect them.”

“Your boy is safe,” Clint said soothingly, and he was about to ask why she ran when Bucky called him over to the door urgently. “What is it, Buck?” Bucky just shows him the baby. The squirming, _ human _ baby. Clint had gaped at it, unable to comprehend what he was seeing. “Is that even possible?” He asked urgently.

“I’ve never heard of a mer having a human child,” Bucky said, shaking his head.

“He’s half-human,” the mother said, struggling to lift her head from the bed. “His father is some human who found me and kept me captive. I managed to escape when I found out I was with child, but I’ve been running since then. I gave birth on a reef not too far from here, and then I came here.”

Her explanation had made Clint furious on her behalf, but he had ignored the rage he was feeling to question her, learning everything she knew - which wasn’t much - on half-mer children. “I know he’s immune to this sickness,” she said, and Bucky had sucked in a breath, “Or else he’d be dead by now.” Her voice broke off into a coughing fit, but when Clint had offered her water, she shook her head. “Take care of him,” she pleaded, staring Clint in the eyes, “You and yours are the only ones I can trust. Everyone on the seafloor knows who you are. The pirate captain who risked everything to save the King’s best friend, more than once. Leaving him with you is the only way I can be sure he will be safe. Please.”

“Of course,” Clint had said, and that’s how he and Bucky had gotten another kid. The mother asked that they name him Nathaniel, after her father, and the last thing she did before she died was press a black-lipped kiss to her son’s forehead and murmur something in the mer language. Bucky responded in the same way from where he was standing outside the room, making a fist and pressing it to his chest.

And then she was gone. They gave her a funeral once the threat of her sickness passing to Bucky or Cooper had passed, and as they were standing there, staring into the flames and watching her body burn, Bucky said, “That boy is never going to be safe if anyone finds out where he came from. What he is.”

“What he is,” Clint said in response, “is our son. And if they ask, we’ll tell them the truth - that he was left for us to take care of and we don’t know who his mother was.”

“We’ll have lie to Lila and Cooper,” Bucky said regretfully. 

“We’ll tell them when they’re older. They’ll understand.” The two of them had stared into the fire until it burnt to ash, holding each other tightly until the sun rose. Lila and Cooper had been thrilled to have another kid around, and they accepted the story Clint and Bucky told them without question. The sight of them playing with Nate’s little hands, letting him grab hold of them over and over... it pulled at Clint’s heartstrings. This was his family, and he would die before he’d let anything happen to it.

~~

“Nathaniel Barton! You get back here right now!” Clint shouts, hands on his hips. Nate sticks his tongue out at Clint, and keeps scooching towards the ocean determinedly. 

“Excellent parenting,” Bucky says from beside him, grinning. 

“That boy only listens to you,” Clint says, exasperated, scrubbing a hand over his face. 

“Well, he is your son,” Bucky says, and he plops a kiss on Clint’s cheek and goes to stop Nate from falling into the ocean. 

Clint crouches down beside Lucky, scratching behind the dog’s ear. “He’s only my son when he’s bad, right,” he tells the dog. “He’s Bucky’s son the rest of the time.” A squeal of laughter catches his attention and he looks up to see Bucky poking their youngest child in the tummy and making faces at him.

“Hey, Dad!” Lila calls, walking through the door. “Aunt Nat’s ship just docked.”

“The _ Avenger _ was my ship first,” Clint grumbles, but he stands up and cracks his back, snickering at Lila’s groan of disgust. “Lila, go get your brother and tell him it’s nearly dinner.” Lila rolls her eyes but stomps up the stairs to go get Cooper.

Clint takes a deep breath, letting himself enjoy the last bit of silence before chaos descends on his little paradise. He’s snapped out of his reverie when a hand lands on his waist and a sticky kiss is pressed to his cheek. His eyes pop open to see Nate an inch in front of his face, grinning and babbling at him. “Hi, baby,” Clint coos, taking their son from Bucky’s arm. “Did you miss me while you were running away?” He blows a bubble against Nate’s stomach and Nate shrieks a laugh, kicking and waving his little fists in the air.

“He’s got you wrapped around his little finger,” Bucky says as he watches them, amused. 

“Like you’re not exactly the same way,” Clint scoffs, not looking up from Nate. Bucky tilts up his chin and presses a gentle kiss to his lips, smiling softly at him as he pulls away. They stare at each other in silence for a few seconds, but their little bubble is popped when Lila and Cooper come pounding into the kitchen, shoving each other and laughing. 

Cooper received his own leg-lace about a month ago, courtesy of Steve, and he’s been wearing it practically non-stop since then, racing around on a pair of skinny human legs. Of course, Lila immediately demanded a necklace that would give her a tail, giving zero regard to the affronted advisors she had shoved out of the way to get to Steve. 

He had solemnly promised her that he would do his best to create such a thing, but Clint and Bucky knew him well enough that they could see the glimmer of amusement in his eye. Last Clint heard, Tony and Shuri had nearly gotten it. Clint was intrigued too - it might be nice to swim with Bucky for once, be able to kiss him underwater without having to come up for air.

“Y’know, I think this might be the most people we’ve ever had here,” Bucky says thoughtfully.

“The five of us, Tasha, Thor and Bruce, Wanda and Shuri, Pietro, America and Kate,” Clint lists.

“Steve, Tony, Pepper, Rhodey, Peter, Sam, my parents and sisters,” Bucky continues. “We forgetting anyone?” 

Lucky barks loudly and Clint laughs. “Of course, we could never forget you, boy!” He says, dropping to his knees and giving Lucky a vigorous belly rub.

“I think that’s all the people, though,” Bucky says, amused. “That makes twenty-four.”

Lucky barks again. “Twenty-five,” Clint corrects, leaning into Bucky’s shoulder. 

Bucky rolls his eyes. “Twenty-five,” he says. 

Clint takes Bucky’s hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze. “You saved me, y’know,” he says suddenly.

“Saved you?”

“When we first met, back on the _ Cirque_, you saved me.”

“If I remember correctly, _ you _ saved _ me_,” Bucky says, nudging Clint’s side. 

“Physically, sure,” Clint agrees, “But you saved me. My self. You saved me from who I would’ve become if I had stayed there. After they saw that you were gone, they beat me so bad they almost killed me, then left me for dead. Once I healed, I jumped from ship to ship, scraping together enough coin until I could afford the _ Avenger. _ If I hadn’t met you, I wouldn’t have had the strength to do that. And I’ve never thanked you for it. So, thank you, Bucky, for saving my life.”

“Hey,” Bucky says quietly, cupping Clint’s cheek in his hand, “I seem to remember someone saying that they wouldn’t always be there to save me, and then seemingly doing everything in their power to prove themselves wrong. I’m glad I could return the favour.”

“I’ll always save you,” Clint says, “You know that.”

“And clearly I don’t say this enough,” Bucky says seriously, “Because if I did, you would know by now: I’m always going to be there to save you, Clint. Not an ocean I wouldn’t cross to do it.” They both lean in at the same time and smack foreheads. Clint curses, leaning back and wincing. Bucky snickers.

“It’s not nice to laugh at other people’s pain, y’know,” Clint says, grinning slightly.

“Do you want me to kiss it better?” Bucky asks, and without waiting for an answer he stretches up and presses a soft kiss to Clint’s forehead, grinning as he pulls away to see Clint’s dumbfounded look. “C’mon, we gotta go watch our family emerge dramatically from the waves,” he says, pulling Clint behind him. 

Clint snorts. “Who do you think is gonna win this year?”

“Considering that Steve literally had a whale escort him last year,” Bucky says, snickering at the memory, “Tasha better come up with something incredible if she wants to beat it.”

“She will,” Clint says confidently, and they settle in beside their kids, letting the three of them snuggle up to their parents. He leans back, supporting himself on his hands, and lets Bucky lean against him, and together, the five of them (plus Lucky) look out at the ocean and wait for the rest of their family to make an appearance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> follow me on the[ tumbles](https://candycanedarcy.tumblr.com/)
> 
> follow me on the [ tweets](https://twitter.com/candycanedarcy)
> 
> check out my [ ko-fi](ko-fi.com/sydneygroenendyk0183)

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on the [ tweets](https://twitter.com/candycanedarcy)
> 
> follow me on the [ tumbles](https://candycanedarcy.tumblr.com/)
> 
> check out my [ ko-fi](https://ko-fi.com/sydneygroenendyk0183)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [floaty Bucky boi](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20806589) by [GreyishBlue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreyishBlue/pseuds/GreyishBlue)


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